


Powerful Woman

by ChronicallyOwlish



Series: Beka and Tyr Vignettes [2]
Category: Andromeda (TV)
Genre: AU, F/M, Fictober, It's About Time, Resolved Sexual Tension, Shameless Smut, poisonous
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-03
Updated: 2018-10-03
Packaged: 2019-07-24 13:00:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,227
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16175579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChronicallyOwlish/pseuds/ChronicallyOwlish
Summary: Tyr is a dangerous man, but Beka always did like dangerous men.





	Powerful Woman

**Author's Note:**

> Taff and Hermit, I've been promising this forever and I finally did it. Enjoy your Tyr lovely ladies <3.

At first, his kiss is tender and so soft it surprises her because there is nothing soft about him. 

But that isn’t true, not really. Tyr is a man with two sides like the poisonous flowers Trance grows for medicinal purposes. Perfect. Beautiful. Deadly. He’s a man of culture and refinement; poetry sprouts from his soul, fed and watered on a steady diet of art and literature. But dangerous, too. The hand that slips under her shirt and travels up her spine to make quick work of her bra, leaving the ghost of his touch and goosebumps behind, has taken dozens of lives.

It doesn’t concern her now, because off comes her shirt and his kisses grow more insistent, almost desperate, hands digging into her back, her body pressed against his so tightly that she can hardly catch her breath. The room spins. His kisses travel down, nuzzling into her neck, then his mouth finds a nipple and she learns that arguing and kissing isn’t the only thing his tongue is skilled at. Through half-closed eyes and gasps, she slips her hands under his leather jerkin, traces the well-sculpted muscles there, and runs her fingers through the fuzz on his chest the way she’s always wanted to. The jerkin comes off as easily as her top. 

In two years, there have been ample opportunities to ogle him, and she’s not ashamed she’s taken full advantage of it, but for the first time, she takes all of him in. Tyr’s body is a work of art, like the paintings he spends hours on, and the sculptures that decorate his room. It’s smooth, dark skin and hard muscles, masculine in a way that should be illegal. She breathes in his scent, warm and spicy. Something sweet in his braids. Something else, too, dark, bitter, and enticing—like coffee or chocolate. 

All his life he’s worked to make himself a perfect specimen, worthy of a powerful mate, and hell if it hadn’t drawn her in until all she could think of was how those hands would feel as they explored her body. Imagination, in this instance, didn’t come close. 

A growl like a purr escapes from deep in his throat as she runs her fingers through the braids now loosened from their tie. Again and again, she lets them fall over the back of her hand, silky and smooth, sensations enhanced as if desire is a drug.

This needs to stop. They have to live together and he’s made it perfectly clear he won’t entertain a relationship with a human and she isn’t sure how they got from yet another philosophical argument about Tyr’s views on interspecies relationships to her kissing him, but here they are, half-naked with sweat forming on her brow and his tongue making its way to the other breast. 

Challenge issued and accepted. 

This is a slow poison that’s going to burn when it’s extracted, but it’s been a long time since anyone has touched her so intimately and this moment has been the subject of hundreds of dreams. It’s a need as much as oxygen. It’s gravity. Inescapable. So she allows it to continue.

He’s dead-serious and systematic in his pleasuring as if her body is a map to conquer. While his tongue and lips focus on her chest, the hands don’t remain idle. They explore every peak and valley that’s been exposed, lingering when they get a reaction until she’s incapable of creating words. Everything beyond Tyr, who is in sharp, almost painful focus, has gone fuzzy. Her hand finds his chin, pulls it up until she can see the desire in those dark, dark eyes. 

Up again, lips crushing hers, arms a vice around her waist. She bites his lip, he grunts in response, so she bites again. This is all new and, greedy by nature, she wants more. Wants to feel his body. Explore every centimeter of it. 

Who the hell decided to put so many buttons on his pants? There are four of them and she feels clumsy as she struggles to undo them while her pants drop easily to the deck. 

It’s getting harder to breathe and even harder to stand. As if he can read her mind, he picks her up. She wraps her legs around his waist and continues the thorough investigations of his mouth, ear, and neck as he carries her easily to the nearest bunk and sets her down. 

She rises to her knees and kisses beneath his ear then whispers, “I’ve wanted this for so long.”

Instead of a response, she gets another grunt and a kiss that can almost be mistaken for loving in its gentleness. Then the conquering continues. Hands on her ass, then stomach and sides. She gasps when they brush between her legs and her vision flashes. All the while she does the same to him. Takes in every muscle, every hair—catalogs the feel of his body against her palms and her lips. Noting for further exploitation that he’s ticklish on the inside of his thighs and his overly-firm ass. There’s something wild in those eyes when she meets them again.

“Powerful Woman,” he whispers, embracing her and it’s clear this is where he’s going to finish what she started. 

He tugs down her panties and pushes her onto her back and she’s powerless as he caresses, rubs, and teases until she’s gasping and crying out his name in desperate need of release. There’s a fervor in his movements now. She’s infected him too—seeped into his bloodstream. A Nietzschean at the mercy of a human woman. 

He stops and hovers above, leaving her longing and in his eyes she sees it—she was never powerless. The power’s been hers all along. To allow. To deny. This ends here one way or the other and she casts the final vote. As if there’d be any other conclusion.

“What are you waiting for,” she manages to say, the words airy and breathless.

Two years they’d danced around each other. Two years of second glances, denied touches, and a heart that ached to beat in time with his. She always did like strong men. Dangerous men. In a constant search for one who could dominate her, but instead would let her call the shots. 

She’d built it up so much over the years that it would be easy to be disappointed. Tyr doesn’t disappoint. 

He paces himself, bringing her right to the edge and backs down once, then twice, and a third time. When she finally comes it overtakes her entire body, wave after wave, as he thrusts harder and faster until he too reaches his climax with a sigh, the tension bleeding from his muscles. Their fingers are entwined and they hold onto each other as if holding on for their lives.

They remain like that for a few breaths before he rolls off to the side, his back practically against the bulkhead on the small bunk, and she curls into him, slipping a leg between his, desperate to maintain their closeness.

“Powerful woman,” he whispers again as his hand cups her cheek and he kisses her. This time there is no mistaking the love in it and it excites her—fills her heart with joy. 

Poisonous. 

Dangerous. 

But she will willingly consume his poison because, dammit, she loves him too.

**Author's Note:**

> This is for Fictober Day 1. I'm using the Inktober prompts and this is for the prompt "Poisonous".


End file.
